


On (Demi) Pointe

by LilianRoses



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adorable, Ballet, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Married Couple, POV Outsider, dance instructor Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 04:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10404390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilianRoses/pseuds/LilianRoses
Summary: When Alex had started this class, he hadn't expected too much. But his family wouldn't pay for his ballet classes, he was a broke-af college student, and this class was almost laughably inexpensive. He had not, however, expected the class to be taught by an adorable cinnamon roll who apparently had quite the exciting past and was married to a modern-day ice king.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make me happy! Please leave one! ^v^/

\-----

Alexander 'Alex' Matthews was a  _danseur._ Fuck the haters.

 

While he was a high-schooler, his mother and father had pushed him towards football and basketball and baseball and shit, but he had found a deep connection to dance. The other sports were fine in their own right, but they just weren't for him. They had not taken it well at all, and his father had quite blatantly expressed his opinion that dancing was not something males did. He had listened to him, because he was his father, but he hadn't been happy at all. At least the strength and endurance training paid off, so he was in excellent shape. And then on top of that, he had admitted to his family that he was ninety-percent certain that he was a homo-romantic asexual, which was the cherry on the _'our son is a complete and utter fuck-up'_ cake.

 

They'd cut almost all ties with him, until he'd  _'come to his senses',_ after which he was more than welcome to return to the family. He had already kissed their ass once in his life, and had no desire for a repeat performance. So he raised both middle fingers, studied his ass off for his scholarship, and danced to his heart's content. He wouldn't trade it for the world.

 

But the thing about ballet was that it was expensive. And most instructors didn't give two shits about your background and/or shitty upbringing. They wanted their money. So he never managed to stay enrolled in a class for more than a month, and he was running out of places to practice. He had to find the cash, or crawl back to his family, dreams crushed. That was when the universe decided to  _finally_ stop shitting on him, and a new studio opened ten minuted from his apartment. The head instructor was male, but it was cheap enough that he could afford it. He had started offering classes for this very reason. He stretched his leg along the  _barre,_ noting with interest that there was actually a fairly decent mixture of males and females. Suprising. It was then that the instructor entered, calm smile on his face.

 

The class was immediately smitten.

 

He had a face that made you want to squish his cheeks and offer him the world. He was a little on the short side, and a little plump for a ballet dancer, but he was still in excellent condition. His messy, black hair curled around his ears and neck, and glasses rested on his nose. He waved to them all, setting his bag down. The class gasped as he removed his glasses and brushed his hair back out of his face. Somehow he had gone from cute little cinnamon roll to sexy _sin_ namon roll in .05 seconds. 

 

This was going to be an interesting class.

\-----

Katsuki Yuuri, or _Yuuri-sensei_ , as he asked to be addressed as, was quite the teacher, it turned out. He was patient, calm, and never judged anyone if they didn't immediately grasp a concept or couldn't perform a move on the first try. He had blushed (adorably) and admitted that he had put a lot of pressure on himself when he was younger, before realizing that pushing yourself  _too_ far wouldn't get you anywhere. Alex didn't think it was possible, but he loved Yuuri-sensei even more now.

 

Not that it would do any good.

 

Yuuri-sensei had walked into class one day on the phone, but the kicker was that he was speaking in what sounded like Russian. He could make out the name  _'Victor'_ from the conversation, but that was it. Whoever was on the other side of the phone sounded super, utterly pissed off, and was yelling what sounded like either death threats or swears. But in typical Yuuri fashion, he had spoken calmly and gently until the person had calmed down enough to switch to English. 

 

"Now, do you want to tell me what's wrong? Oh no, what has Viktor done this time? He means well, Yuri...I know he can be a little frustrating. Okay, a lot frustrating. I'll talk to him when I get home; I have a class. Just try and focus on practicing, alright? Please don't murder him."

 

The class gawked. Just who was he talking to?

 

"Okay. Okay. Thank you, Yuri.  _Do svidánʹja."_

 

He ended the call, and turned towards his shocked class. He frowned.

 

"What's wrong, everyone?"

 

A young woman, Charlotte, asked in a hesitant voice.

 

"W-who was that, Yuuri-sensei? He sounded really angry..."

 

Yuuri-sensei chuckled.

 

"He was. He's just a little tired of Viktor's laid-back attitude."

 

Alex tilted his head.

 

"Who's Victor?"

 

Yuuri-sensei's face was confused, and he tilted his head.

 

"You don't know? Have I never mentioned him? He's my husband."

 

You could almost hear the sound of all of the girls' (and some guys') hearts shattering.

\-----

They became better acquainted with Viktor (spelled with a 'k', apparently) about a week later. They were working on basic  _developpe,_  rotating between  _avante, a la seconde,_ and  _derriere,_ when a steady thumping echoed through the hallway leading to the studio. Most students looked alarmed, but Yuuri-sensei merely sighed and dropped out of position. Just then, a man who looked only a few years older than Yuuri-sensei burst through the double doors, looking quickly from left to right. When he spotted Yuuri-sensei, he broke out into a grin.

 

Most of the class swooned. He looked like he was chiseled from marble, all sharp, defined lines. His hair was platinum thread, and his eyes were a unique blend of aquamarine, lapis lazuli, and diamond. All in all, he was a prime specimen of man, and most of the students wanted to either a.) climb him like a tree or b.) learn his secrets to looking like a Greek god. Those who wanted option a were quickly disappointed however when he swooped Yuuri-sensei into a hug and spun him around in a circle. Yuuri-sensei just laughed, and hugged him around his neck until he was set back on his feet. With some effort, he schooled his expression into a stern one.

 

"Viktor, what are you doing here? Don't you and Yuri have ice time scheduled for today?"

 

Alex almost had a stroke. _This_ was Viktor?! How fucking unfair was this world? Attractive, wonderful people shouldn't end up together-what about the rest of society? Normal people needed love too, you know. They couldn't all look like they stepped out of a fairytale, nor could they have a heart as pure as a Disney princess. And now they find out he was married to an icy, crystalline king.

 

Damnit.

 

At the mention of Yuri, Viktor obviously remembered why he was here. More thumping, and then what sounded like a stampede. A short, thin blonde boy slammed open the double doors before throwing his weight against them. His expression was a mixture of fearful and irate that Alex had never seen before. He glared at Viktor, and started hissing in Russian. They figured he must revert to that language when he was angry. Viktor looked (exaggeratedly) hurt; stepping back and clutching his chest.

 

"How is this  _my_ fault? They're  _your_ fangirls."

"They only recognized us because of your stupidly unique hair color! No one else around here has that hair and eye color combination! You need to put on a hat to cover up what few strands you have left, baldy!"

 

At that insult, Viktor looked more genuinely hurt. Yuuri-sensei stepped in before he could fall to the floor in despair.

 

"Yuri, Viktor, the locker room is through those doors. I'll come get you when the coast is clear, understand?"

 

They ran toward the doors instead of answering.

 

The entire building seemed to shake as the sound of the stampede drew closer. Alex briefly wondered what the fuck he had gotten himself into, and whether or not he needed to take cover.  _Fuck,_ they were in a dance studio. There  _was_ nowhere to take cover. He had just wanted to fucking practice ballet, and now he was going to die for it. But just as the entire class was coming to terms with their impending demise, Yuuri-sensei stepped forward. He looked, different somehow. More confident. Almost familiar...

 

Just then the doors bust open  _again,_ only this time a massive crowd of girls appeared. They halted when they didn't see Yuri or Viktor, but erupted in screams when they saw Yuuri-sensei. You could almost see the hearts in their eyes.

 

"It's Yuuri Katsuki!"

"OMG, he's even hotter up close!"

"I loved your  _Eros_ routine!"

"Will you take a selfie with me?!"

"Can I have your autograph?!"

"Can I have your babies?!"

 

Yuuri-sensei, suprisingly, just went with it, signing papers and taking selfies. He informed the young lady that unfortunately, no, she could not bear his children, but he was sure there was someone out there who'd love her to bear his. After about ten minutes, the hoard of girls asked if he'd seen either Yuri or Viktor. He told them no, but asked them to leave since he was actually in the middle of instructing a class. They had all pouted, and let out a group  _'awwww'._ But they clutched their prizes to their chests. At least their chase had reaped some rewards.

 

After he was sure that they had gone, he'd let out a breath and slumped a little. Immediately he was the Yuuri-sensei they knew and loved: modest, a little shy, and a complete cinnamon roll. They had no idea where that living, breathing sex-on-legs had come from. While Yuuri-sensei left to inform the two Russians that the fans had left, Alex decided he'd had enough. The unusually cheap class, the switching between sweet and spicy, the fact that he spoke three languages fluently, the _fangirls_...it was too much. He needed answers and he needed them now. The curiosity was killing him. So when the trio reappeared, he broke.

 

"Yuuri-sensei, just who are you really?"

 

The rest of the class muttered their agreement. Yuuri-sensei looked cornered, Viktor looked confused yet amused, and Yuri looked like he'd seen and heard enough BS for one day. He jerked a thumb in Yuuri-sensei's direction, and he flinched as if he'd actually made contact.

 

" _Yuuri-sensei_ is Yuuri Fucking Katsuki. He's a retired professional skater who's won a shit-ton of both gold and silver medals and is considered one of Japan's top figure-skaters. He's skated in the goddamn Olympics for crying out loud."

 

Yuri pointed at Viktor.

 

"He married this idiot, Viktor Fucking Nikiforov, the most decorated figure-skater in history. He won five  _consecutive_ gold medals, two silver, and he  _also_ skated in the goddamn Olympics. They are the only two fuckers in history to get married and still compete against each other."

 

He crossed his arms.

 

"I'm Yuri Plisetsky, and I plan to boot both of these old farts off of their pedestals one day, despite having this moronic drama king as a coach."

"So cold, Yuri..."

"Bite me, you stupid old son of a bitch."

 

Yuuri-sensei finally decided that enough was enough, and told them both that they could stay and watch since the fangirlss were probably still out sniffing for them. He did, however, threaten in a stern tone to throw them to the proverbial sharks if they disrupted his lesson one more time. They both agreed, Viktor enthusiastically and Yuri sullenly.

 

(Viktor always loved to watch Yuuri dance.)

 

Alex was shocked. That's why he looked familiar. He was on international TV. And he probably had a shit-ton of sponsors too, so he didn't need money. That's why he could offer his classes so cheap. He knew Russian because his fucking  _husband_ and  _adopted son_ were Russian. Yuuri-sensei had _fangirls_ of his own. He could have passed out. He looked at Yuuri-sensei, who was saying something or the other about making sure to pull upwards when performing a  _developpe,_  and giving examples of exercises to help strengthen their supporting leg.

 

_He would never look at him the same way again._

_\-----_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
